Relic of the Future: Chapter 4

A wooden sword stopped him before he could leave. The girl held her sword before him. "No, wait," she said, smiling cruelly. "You want your sword back and I want a spar. How about you show me just how much `stronger` you really are, huh?"

He sighed. "Do we have to do this? I'm injured, not to mention unarmed."

"Then I guess you're fucked, aren't you?" the girl laughed, swinging for his head. It was a good blow, a fast blow – and aimed well.

It cracked loudly against the palm of his hand.

The girl gasped. "What!?"

The hilt, wood and leather, slammed back into her stomach as he rammed the sword back down into her. She fell with a gasp, releasing it as he twisted it to the side and around, hauling her toward him and over one knee. The girl made an impressive somersault before landing on her back in a cloud of dust. She stared at the sky in shock, and then the tip of the practice blade as it rested against her throat.

"Are we done now?" he asked, aware of the laughter of the crowd. She was too if her red cheeks were any indication.

"Fuck you," she snarled, swatting the sword away. She rolled onto her feet and dashed for her trainer, stealing the man's sword as he sighed and shook his head.

[...]

She swung in and slashed down towards his face, crying out as she did. His own blade moved to block it and he saw her muscles tense for the impact. At the last second, he pulled back and feinted, stepping aside. The girl, so certain she'd make contact, over extended and stumbled. She managed to keep her balance, or at least did so until he hooked his toes behind her foot and swept it away.

The crowd laughed again as she hit the dust. She slapped a hand down angrily and rolled to the side, standing and charging once more. One, two, three wild slashes were dodged with relative ease, even if he could have deflected them. On the third he slipped around and rapped her knuckles, earning a yelp from her as she dropped her weapon. She caught it on a foot, kicked it back up, and would have caught it if not for him catching it on the blade of his instead. With a casual flick, he sent it back to the trainer from before, who caught it with a gruff laugh.

"We're done now," he said, holding the blade under her chin. He made it a statement and not a question this time. "You're not bad, especially for your age, but you really need to learn to control that temper of yours." She was like Weiss and Yang combined, except without the self-control of either. "Preferably before someone controls it for you. Permanently."

"Fuck you, you piece of shit. I'll tear off your head and-"

"And that mouth," he said, smacking her none-too-gently on the head. She fell onto her knees with a gasp.

[...]

"Apologies are for the weak, Vernal. Grow strong or get out of my sight."

—Relic of the Future: Chapter 4